Certain things in life are hard like advanced calculus, deciphering ancient Egyptian ruins and having one child sleep in your home while the other people in your home are awake…or alive for that matter. My first born, the Monkey Boy, was a very light sleeper. I always assumed this was in part due to him being the only child in the home and not being accustomed to having noise in the house. I had heard stories of many first born children being like this, and I had also heard how the siblings of these light sleepers could sleep through the noise of vacuum cleaners, fire alarms and the apocalypse. I was sure that these accounts had to be some unnamed law of siblings and was convinced that the same would be true for my family.
Enter the Mush Man. Let me start by saying that my newborn is not on a sleep schedule, and I am fine with it. So when he falls asleep, that is when he sleeps. Now, when the Mush Man was still a newbie in our home, I fully expected this myth of the magical sleeping second child to be true. In fact, I couldn’t wait to start allowing small planes to land in our living room just so that I could marvel at the miraculous, sleeping, second child. Lies! These people and their second babies told me lies!
My Mush Man wakes up for everything, and when I say everything I mean this following list of noises made by the people in this house that are not responsible for breastfeeding…the Monkey Boy and my husband.
Sh#t that wakes my baby up:
- Loud singing renditions of popular PBS cartoon theme songs sang by a 4 year old that sings in only one key…and as his mother I must admit it is an exceptionally, monotone crappy key.
- Loud and quiet voices that talk to me whilst nursing or rocking my son to sleep. I am strongly considering wearing a sign around my neck while doing these things that reads: “SHOOOSH!”
- The clatter of toys being yanked out of the toy closet. My son has this innate desire to play with the one toy that is in the back of his toy closet, at the bottom of his toy chest and underneath every single freaking toy that makes noise!
- The sound of the dog being a dog, which I must say is one of the most annoying qualities of dogs.
- The sound of sniffling, wheezing, coughing, burping, farting and any other noise that the two men in my life can possibly produce at any given time. And yes, I did mean to write farting. What a way to wake up!
- The rustling of sheets or the sound of clothing being moved across someone’s body. Do you know that I have learned how to get out of bed without making a single noise? It involves cat like precision and allowing my boob to hang out as I get up from nursing. He can actually hear me pull my shirt down!
- The STUPID, STUPID, STUPID garbage truck! I am strongly considering creating a petition asking my neighbors to burn their trash or make do with the smell for the next few years. And can someone explain to me why the garbage truck driver has to drive like an ass and pull every freaking lever that makes about a thousand awful, baby-waking sounds?
- The sound of stairs. Stairs are probably one of the most worthless inventions in the world. They make an absolute cacophony of creaking noises that probably disrupt the dead. Why do we still need stairs? I watched the Jetsons as a kid. Shouldn’t every person be equipped with a jet pack by now?
Now, every person on the face of the planet will no doubt have at least one possible solution for my conundrum, and I can bet that most people will say that I need to create “white noise.” Well, I have created white noise. In my bedroom where my son sleeps, I turn on the bathroom fan, overhead fan and an additional oscillating fan. You would think that this would keep my little one asleep or at the very least keep him from waking as a means to conserve body heat in such a cold space. Nope. Sure, this orchestra of white noise keeps out some noise, but considering the fact that the my 4 year old and husband are both walking, talking noise machines, it doesn’t keep everything out. And unfortunately, I have used some less than savory phrases in an attempt to keep these walking, talking white noise machines away. I will admit that I do turn into the dragon lady when trying to help ease the Mush Man into dream land, and I have in fact uttered the following things:
- Please, only speak if it is an emergency, and hunger is not that big of an emergency at this point.
- I know you want crackers, but you’re getting applesauce because it is a quiet food.
- Honey (husband), for the love of it please stop breathing!
- I don’t care that sneezing is an involuntary action. Don’t do it!
- No playing with anything that is not cloth or play dough.
- Yes, we can play hide and seek, only without the seek part.
There is one thing that allows the Mush Man to sleep through everything; the rocking chair. The minute he puts his head to my or my husband’s chest, he is instantly out for the long haul. The problem with this is that after rocking for so long I begin to remind myself of an asylum patient. But until my Mush Man adjusts to the noise that is our home, he will be rocked. And I will pray for the stars to align, the wind to blow just right and for the garbage truck driver to take a sick day, so that more often than once a month, he may take a good nap on his own.